


The One Where Link Jerks Rhett Off In Link's Shower

by TheMouthKing



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, M/M, Shower Sex, idek guys, mostly feels, one clothed, one nude, vaguely explicit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-26 08:00:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22314658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMouthKing/pseuds/TheMouthKing
Summary: There were a lot of cuts in Vlog 001. Makes you wonder what footage had to be edited out. Here is one such cut scene.
Relationships: Rhett McLaughlin/Link Neal
Comments: 58
Kudos: 146





	The One Where Link Jerks Rhett Off In Link's Shower

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sohox](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sohox/gifts), [annabelle_leigh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/annabelle_leigh/gifts), [charliewashere](https://archiveofourown.org/users/charliewashere/gifts).

> Uh, so. I had a vague idea/mood this morning at work about how, like... they were so close before. Not even sexual, just hella close. The kind of close people don't often get to experience. And then like, life happened and kinda drilled the message home that their kinda close is too close for two guys. So they did the thing that was expected of them... and then they started to come back together, doing videos, then they moved to LA, and slowly they started to rebuild the closeness they'd lost. And it took a hell of a long time but they're getting back to there, and the dynamics are all changing, and they're figuring it out and in some ways it's close and in some ways it's still not but when they do come together, they come together _easy_.
> 
> Also I had an adult beverage and got in my feels. This is unbetaed, there's errors, and I don't care. It's done, and I'm setting it free.
> 
> PS. THANK to @charliewazhere of Tumblr, I owe you a debt for enabling this bs. 
> 
> PPS. THANK to my random anon who asked the age old question: would Link grab Rhett's dick randomly if it was hard? (The answer is yes :P )

“Did you… just honk my dick?”

Link realizes with abject horror that, in fact, he had.

Rhett had gotten hard — or, well, half-hard, hard _enough_ that it had been noticed — as Link walked into the shower so the both of them could film through the window in the neighbor’s direction. He’d clocked it out of the corner of his eye and his hand just… went and grabbed him with a rhythmic one-two squeeze. _Dear God, why?_ Worse, he’d made the accompanying sound effects like what he’d grabbed was the business end of an old fashioned bicycle air-horn, or like he were trying to activate a duck.

“Um… looks like I did.”

Link’s mind is racing and it’s come to a dead stop all at once. What were they talking about just before... before it happened? Something about lining up the shot, something about going outside, how they’d communicate as they moved into the next phase. But then Rhett had turned and said something else, asked Link to pass him a hand towel so he could dry off his hands before touching the cameras. That’s when things unraveled, and fast.

Link half-blames his first damning slip on the fact that Rhett had cussed and that they’d decided to cut out a bunch of the conversation between hashing out the plan and Link leaving the bathroom. That's when his eyes dipped down.

He’d been being so good, been keeping his eyes and his camera lens up and at a safe distance from Rhett’s junk, but somehow knowing they were trashing this sequence caused him to let his guard down. _He’d looked_. And with looking came seeing, came noticing that Rhett’s not as soft as he’d been when he walked in the door while the taller man was fumbling over his faucet (yes, he’d clocked him then, too) and certainly not as soft as he’d been when he’d finally gotten the water to stop running ice cold (can you honestly blame his eyes for straying?).

In the aftermath he’s wracking his brain to try and figure out why on God’s green earth he’d just reached out and grabbed him. Why he’d squeezed Rhett’s dick almost _playfully_. Why the fuck had he made that sound effect?

Link’s so stricken by the swarm of _what the fuck’s??? _swimming through his brain that he almost misses the fact that Rhett’s reaction is worlds away from horror or regret.

“You wanna honk it again?”

The easy way Rhett asks that throws him a bit. Like it’s some casual thing, as normal as asking for Link to pass him a towel. Link wonders when things tipped between them, when they’d started to get this back. He’s certainly not naive enough to think this hasn’t been a long time coming.

“Yeah, sure,” Link answers, but he’s nervous. Mouth dry, he wraps a hand around Rhett’s shower-damp dick and gives another squeeze, this time less thoughtless and automatic and more deliberate. More aware of what it was his hand was doing. Out of the corner of his mouth, he lets loose a stupid little honk.

Rhett chuckles and sighs at the same time, the two sounds warring for his breath.

“Freaking moron.” It’s barely above a whisper.

“You asked for a honk,” Link defends himself with a grin more present in his voice than on his lips, and he's moving in to crowd Rhett’s big body up against the cool white tile wall of his shower.

“You know what I meant.”

Rhett groans, and this time it isn’t put on for show, a throwback to Herbal Essences commercials.

It’s been a long time coming back to this. Not _this_ per say, but this easiness. This back and forth, this tandem step. It hadn’t felt wrong once upon a time, teenagers and feeling like half of a whole. It hadn’t been sexual at first but it had been affirming, real, deeper than skin-deep. Rhett felt as sure as Link’s own right hand, and through their life Link had always been at his side, as sure as his left.

But life had started to wear that away.

“Careful, you’re gonna get wet.”

“I’m goin’ out in a minute. It’s raining anyway. No one’s gonna know.”

“_Jesus_... slow down.”

Everywhere they went there were gatekeepers. Growing up, they were corrected for what was perceived as not right about them, about their bond, their connection. They were too close, wrestled too much, collapsed together on an open bed too readily. Opted to share a bedroom too easily. Touched too often.

It wasn’t right, not for two good Christian boys from the south.

Someone had to let them know, and they’d gotten the message loud and clear. The closeness between them wore away the way the tight join between two rocks nature had butted up perfectly together is worn away under the constant barrage of water, a slow erosion. It wasn’t malicious towards them specifically. It just happens and call it nature, a correction of course, a consequence of being made of soft stone.

“You gotta warn me.”

“I, _g-guh_... I know...”

“I mean it. You cum on my pants and we gotta start all over again. Ain’t no way we can explain away why I changed pants between here and outside.”

They’d rebuilt around the waterfall. They made lives that fit the other in as close as the outside world would allow, close as was deemed appropriate. But over time and with distance from those that had felt the need to correct, to question, to push them in the right direction, they’d started to find their way back to each other.

The fix had been slow, slower than the breakaway had been, because fixing what’s worn away takes more work than the wearing. It meant finding out what was lost in the river and figuring out where the pieces that were left of them could fit together still.

It was finding out what still felt like home.

There’s a big wet hand on Link’s olive jacketed shoulder when Rhett warns, “Link, I’m gonna— _fuck, _I’m gonna...”

Rhett’s curly head falls back to where the wall ought to be but the open window is, catches the top tiled edge, doesn’t care because Link drops down to a crouch, hovers at Rhett’s feet so his knees don’t touch the wet floor and he takes Rhett in his mouth, easy as anything.

“_Shit, _Link...”

It had taken them decades to find their way back. To fully suss out what it meant to fit together, to stop caring what people saw and what they thought, especially with the added complication of sixteen million plus eyes on them, fame and everything that came with that. They’re not all the way there yet. There’s still soft edges, worn away by the world, parts of themselves they can’t get back. But that’s fine, that’s life, that’s everyone. What’s important is they’re back to moving in tandem, back to one foot following the other, moving together like plates of earth so dead-set on becoming mountains that they collide until the fault line between them is indistinguishable.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for liking, commenting, and subscribing.


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